


Ride

by aloevera



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, biker!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 22:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloevera/pseuds/aloevera
Summary: "Come here," "Sit on my lap," "Slow down. I'm in no hurry," and biker!Steve.





	Ride

“Natasha, can you pretend that you’re dying or something so that I can cancel this date with Steve?”

 

Natasha glances up from her book and raises an eyebrow at your question. “Uh, no?” she responds slowly as she closes the book and tosses it onto the coffee table, wisely sensing that the conversation is far from over, “Why would I do that?”

 

“Because you’re a fantastic friend, my best friend, and I’ll owe you for the rest of our lives,” you explain in a rush as you join her on the couch and reach for her hands. “If you love me, you’ll get me out of this date.”

 

Natasha shakes her head and pulls her hands from your grasp. “What’s up with you?” she questions as she takes in your frazzled state, “You usually jump at the opportunity to go out with Steve. Your puppy love is nauseating, honestly.”

 

“He wants to take me out on a ride on his motorcycle tonight,” you explain, as if that’s more than enough for her to understand your behavior.

 

Natasha nods slowly before she gestures for you to continue. “And? I don’t get why that’s a big deal. Haven’t you gone out on his bike before?”

 

“No,” you sigh as you throw your head back against the cushions of the couch, “we’ve always been stopped before we could! It would rain or it would snow or something would come up and we’d walk. I’ve managed to avoid riding with him thus far. I just need to keep it up for, like, the rest of my life and I’ll be set!”

 

She stares at you blankly for a moment before she shakes her head. “Okay, I give. Why don’t you want to ride the bike?”

 

“I’m terrified of motorcycles,” you breathe as you turn your head to glance at her, “always have been. My grandmother put me on a friend’s bike to let him ride me around the block when I was kid. I thought I was going to die. And, my mom got into an awful accident that almost killed her when I was a teenager. Both turned me off the whole thing. Now, every time I look at one all I can see is a beautiful death trap.”

 

“Have you told Steve?” she questions, a little more understanding of why you’re so freaked out.

 

“No,” you cry as you bring your hands up to cover your face, “I can’t! He loves motorcycles. They’re literally his life. He works on them, he rides them, he’s in a fucking motorcycle gang, Nat. I can’t tell him that I’m terrified of them or he’ll break up with me.”

 

“Technically it’s a motorcycle club,” she informs you before she continues after you shoot her a look, “and you’re giving him way too little credit. Steve’s a good guy. He won’t break up with you just because you’re afraid of motorcycles. Honestly, he’ll probably try his hardest to make sure you’re comfortable with them. But in a very polite, not pushy sort of way. Because he’s a gentleman or something.”

 

“I know,” you huff as you lift your head to fully face her, “but it’s been six months, Nat. I can’t just tell him now. He’ll wonder why I never said anything.”

 

“And that’s when you tell him that you were being silly and you didn’t want to disappoint him but your best friend knocked some sense into you and now you know he won’t be disappointed. Seriously,” she sighs, “I know how into him you are. I know how happy he makes you. I know that you want to be with him for the long haul. None of that matters if you can’t be honest with him.”

 

“I hate when you’re reasonable and right,” you cry as you watch her stand from the couch and hold her hand out to drag you up and onto your feet, “I feel like I’m being scolded by a parent who’s not mad, just disappointed.”

 

Natasha rolls her eyes at your words and shakes her head before she drags you down the hall to your bedroom. “Let’s get you ready for your date,” she sighs as she shoves you into your bedroom.

 

An hour and a half, four outfits, two attempts at winged eyeliner, and a straightener burn later, Natasha is all but shoving you out the door as soon as Steve knocks. She doesn’t give him a chance to say hello, she simply hands you your bag and coat and shuts the door behind you. Steve stares at the door blankly for a moment before he turns his attention to you.

 

“She okay?” he questions, brows furrowed.

 

“Yep,” you nod, “never better. Just, uh, frustrated with me.”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow at this before he leans in to pull you into a hug. “Well, I can’t imagine why,” he hums into your hair before he releases you and tosses an arm over your shoulders, “but I am curious.”

 

“Well,” you begin with a sigh as you keep your eyes glued to the floor of the hallway, “it’s kind of about you.”

 

“What did I do?” Steve questions, genuinely concerned that he’d done something wrong and caused a riff between you and Natasha.

 

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, “I promise. I just, it’s me. I, uh, I have something to tell you.”

 

Steve stops walking and turns to face you. His hands are gentle as he tilts your chin so that you’re forced to look him in the eye. “Is everything okay?” he questions, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of a problem.

 

“Yes,” you nod, “it’s fine. I just, I should’ve told you this sooner but I didn’t want to disappoint you. Natasha’s annoyed that I’m freaking out and wants me to get it over with and I agree. I should get it over with. So, here goes. I’m terrified of motorcycles. Always have been. My grandmother let a friend drive me around the block as a kid and it freaked me out and then my mom got into this awful wreck when I was a teenager and almost died and that freaked me out even more so now I get kind of anxious every time I see a motorcycle. Like, they’re beautiful, I’ll give you that. But there are so many things that could go wrong! They’re so dangerous. And they just freak me out. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner.”

 

Steve lets out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding as soon as he processes your minor meltdown. “Sweetheart,” he sighs as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest, “you had me worried that something was wrong. It’s not a big deal that you’re afraid of motorcycles. Tons of people are afraid. I’m not going to tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of but I’d love to help you get over that fear if it’s something you want to do. But don’t feel like you have to because of me. If you don’t want to ride with me, that’s okay. I just want you to be happy.”

 

Steve feels the tension leave your body as you relax into his embrace. “You’re not upset that I didn’t tell you?” you question as you peek up at him through your lashes after a moment of silence.

 

“Of course not,” he assures you with a smile, “I wish you’d told me sooner so I could’ve done something different for tonight but I’m not upset.”

 

“What were you planning for tonight?” you ask curiously as you step away slightly but keep your arms wrapped around his waist.

 

Steve smiles at you and moves his hand to brush a stray piece of hair from your face as he explains, “There’s this field right outside the city. You can see a sky full of stars and the cityscape out there. I thought we could have a picnic.” Steve stops himself after that and brings a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I guess that’s pretty cheesy,” he laughs, “sorry. We can do something else, if you want.”

 

“Steve,” you breathe as you tighten your hold on him, “that’s so sweet. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever planned for me.” Steve smiles at your words and returns his arms to pull you closer but before he can speak, you’re pulling away and stepping around him to stare at his motorcycle. “I want you to help me get over my fear.”

 

Steve brings his hand to your chin and tilts your face upwards. “Are you sure?” he questions as he looks you in the eye. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. Don’t think you have to do this right now.”

 

“There’s no time like the present,” you assure him with a smile, “and I trust you. I know you’ll do whatever you can to keep me safe.”

 

Steve watches you for a long moment, searches your face for any flicker of uncertainty or doubt, but when he does not find what he is looking for, he nods. “Okay,” he agrees with a small smile, “I’d love to help you get over your fear, doll.” He lets go of you and reaches around to grab the extra helmet from his bike. “This is for you,” he offers with a smile as he hands you the royal blue helmet, “I know you love the blue. I’m going to get on and you’ll climb on behind me. Hold on to me as tight as you need to, okay?”

 

At your nod, Steve pulls on his own helmet and steps closer to the bike. You watch quietly as he throws his leg over and seats himself in place before he turns to you and offers his hand. Your brain is telling you to run, that this is a bad idea, but your heart is telling you that Steve won’t let anything happen to you. And as it always seems to whenever Steve is concerned, your heart wins and you find yourself climbing onto the back of the motorcycle and wrapping your arms around Steve’s middle.

 

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” Steve offers before he turns on the bike. When he feels you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, Steve turns the key and the bike roars to life.

 

You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut as Steve begins to pull away from the curb. He feels your arms tighten around his waist but continues on when you don’t ask him to stop. He moves as slowly as he can through the backstreets of your neighborhood, giving you the chance to back out, but as soon as he hits the highway, he has no choice but to go faster than he feels you might be ready for.

 

The lights of the city are a blur as Steve maneuvers the two of you through the streets. Traffic is nowhere near as bad as you’d feared but you can’t help watching each car with care as Steve drives the two of you past the buildings and through the steady rush of traffic. It is only once you are out of the city, away from the flow of cars and city lights, that you relax slightly. 

 

It feels freeing, almost, as Steve drives you out of the city. You can feel the wind on the skin of your hands and you can almost hear the rush as it whips by. The rumble of the bike has faded into the background and all you can focus on is the blurs of green as they rush by. 

 

By the time you reach your destination, you are no longer clinging to Steve as though your life depends on it. Your arms have relaxed into a firm hold and, as he parks the bike and pulls off his helmet, Steve is beginning to think that you liked the ride more than you’ll admit. But once he helps you off and your helmet is discarded, Steve is surprised to find your arms back around his waist.

 

“Was that okay?” he questions as you bury your face in the material of his t-shirt, “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m good,” you assure him, your voice slightly muffled, “I’m okay. It was okay. It was actually sort of nice at the end, when we got away from the city. I think the traffic and other people’s recklessness scares me more than the motorcycle itself.”

 

Steve smiles as you pull away from the embrace and glance at him. “I’m glad you liked it, even just a little,” he smiles as he grabs the bag he’d packed for the picnic. “Maybe we can start slow, out in the country. Go on rides through the backroads,” he offers as he laces his fingers with yours and leads you further into the field. “We could just ride out here, not worry about cars or people. And when you’re feeling up to it, maybe a trip around the city. Just to warm you up.”

 

“That sounds nice,” you assure him with a smile, “thank you for taking this all in stride. I really do trust you and this is something you love, I want to at least be able to appreciate it without being terrified.”

 

Steve leans in to press a kiss against your hair before he grabs the blanket from the bag and spreads it across the ground. “I really appreciate that, doll,” he smiles, his voice genuine, “it means a lot to me.”

 

Conversation turns lighter from there, words are shared about Bucky and Sam and Natasha and their latest antics as well as stories from a time before you knew one another. Time always seems to stop whenever you’re with Steve, you live in a bubble where only the two of you matter, and you don’t notice the hours melting away. Your only concern is with the food, the conversation, and the beautiful man sitting before you.

 

But that doesn’t stop the small thrill of panic that hits when you notice the hour.

 

“Steve,” you breathe as you catch the hour on your watch, “it’s nearly four in the morning. We really need to get back to the city.”

 

Steve reaches out to grab your wrist and tugs you closer before you can scramble to gather the picnic materials and pack them up. “Come here,” he breathes with a smile as he wraps his arms around your waist, “Slow down. I’m in no hurry.”

 

“Don’t you have to be at the shop at five?” you question, relaxing in his embrace.

 

“Not tomorrow,” he informs you with a smile, “Bucky’s taking the lead tomorrow. He and Sam can hold down the fort for a day.”

 

“In that case,” you hum as you turn to face him, “do you mind if I stay here for a while?”

 

Steve laughs at your question and shakes his head happily. “I don’t mind at all,” he assures you with a smile as he leans in closer, “do you mind if I kiss you?”

 

“I don’t mind at all.”

 

Steve’s sincere smile matches your own before he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Although you’ve kissed Steve many times before, each time feels like the first. The sense of joy you felt the first time he kissed you, the emotion he pours into each one; you can feel it every time and it never fails to take your breath away.

 

As you lose yourself in the kiss, your hands card through Steve’s hair and his begin to wander. One hand gingerly cups your cheep while the fingers of his free hand begin to trace lightly across your collarbone, across your shoulder, and down your side. His touch is feather light but you can feel the passion behind his embrace.

 

“Steve,” you breathe against his lips as you pull away to take a breath, “we should head back to the city.”

 

Steve shifts and allows you to pull away from him and sit up. He follows your lead and moves to sit beside you. “Do you want to go back into the city?”

 

“No, I want to just be with you,” you assure him, “but we can’t, not out here.”

 

“Why not?” he questions as he glances at you. When you don’t answer his question, Steve holds his arms open and beckons you forward. “Come sit on my lap,” he hums and when you follow his instructions, he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “We’re alone out here, no one is going to disturb us or see us. This is the only complete, total, guaranteed privacy we’ll have for a while. We should take advantage of it. If you’re okay with that.”

 

Steve glances at you from beneath his lashes and you want to kick yourself for so willingly bending to his whims. Instead, you nod and return your hands to his hair. “If anyone catches us, I’m blaming it all on you,” you promise him before you allow him to pull you into a deeper, more passionate kiss.

 

Steve’s hands are still gentle as they wander, however, this time they dip beneath the hem of your sweater. His fingers trace patterns along the skin of your stomach before he drags his hands up your sides to rest beneath your breasts. His fingers run along the band of your bra before he breathes, “May I?” against your lips.

 

The shift of your hips and the breathed ‘yes’ is enough for Steve as his fingers make quick work of the material of your sweater and your bra. Both are tossed to the side of the blanket as Steve’s hands move to cup your breasts. His hands are warm against your skin, his touch firm but gentle, as your own fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt.

 

Reluctantly, Steve pulls away from you long enough to tug the offending material up and over his head before he returns to lavish your chest with attention. As he leans in to capture a bud between his lips, your hands trail down his chest to rest at the band of his jeans.

 

Steve pulls away as soon as you pop the button on his jeans and reaches for the button of yours. He watches as you move from his lap and stand to shimmy out of your jeans and underwear before he does the same. Your clothes join the growing pile at the foot of the blanket as Steve pulls you back down to the ground and moves so that you are lying on your back and he is hovering above you.

 

His fingers are gentle as they dip between your legs to brush along your folds. His lips leave butterfly kisses down the column of your throat and he can feel the vibration of your moans as he dips a finger into your heat. His movements are slow, calculated, as he prepares you for him and once he feels your nails dig into his shoulder, Steve knows that you’re ready.

 

He gives you a final glance, wanting to be sure, and when you nod, he grabs the condom from his jeans and rolls it onto his length before he guides himself into your heat.

 

Steve is one of the most versatile partners you’ve ever had. He knows how to work with the situation to give you an unforgettable experience and this time, as you lie beneath the stars, Steve takes his time. His fingers caress your skin, his lips brush kisses across your collarbone, and he whispers sweet nothings into the night air. The moment is beautiful, so very Steve, and you want to stay in it forever.

 

But you can feel the white hot ball of heat forming in the pit of your stomach and you breathe Steve’s name into the darkness as you fall over the edge. He follows shortly after and stills, trying his hardest not to collapse on top of you, before he pulls out and settles beside you.

 

The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Steve tugs you closer to his chest and runs his fingers down your arm. “You okay?” he questions as you stare up at the slowly lightening sky.

 

“Mhm,” you assure him with a nod, “I’m okay. I was anxious about the ride but I’m glad we came out here. This is beautiful.”

 

Steve hums his agreement against your skin as his fingers trace lacy patterns against your skin. “The ride was worth it?” he questions with a smile.

 

“Absolutely,” you assure him with a laugh, “and, you know what? If they all end like this, I’m already looking forward to the next one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love AUs. I need to get back into the actual Marvel universe, though. I think I'm going to expand on a drabble I wrote...


End file.
